


love crime.

by lil_shitass



Category: Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Extraction (2020), The Night Manager (TV), The Night Manager (TV) RPF, The Night Manager - Jean Le Carré
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Bloodplay, Deviates From Canon, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Murder Husbands, Out of Character, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_shitass/pseuds/lil_shitass
Summary: au, where Tyler Rake and Jonathan Pine had worked  together as partners for a long time, but they had experienced several traumas affecting the psyche and became the worst versions of themselves.
Relationships: Jonathan Pine/Tyler Rake
Kudos: 2





	love crime.

**Author's Note:**

> » sorry, english isn’t my native language, so there can be some mistakes   
> » please, write comments, i need them so much  
> » this work was written by my co-author in russian and was translated by me, you can find more works at her acc here — kinda_very_very_strange

"And I sincerely hoped that you were not like that"

Jonathan angry purses his lips, quickly reloads the pistol, holding it on Tyler, he takes a step forward, and Pine tenses even more, his fingers tremble. 

"Don't fucking come to me"

"Me?"

Tyler spits out blood and his lips sore from the previous blow. 

"Did you decide to hurt me physically at ? Would you like to take and shake my soul out? Do you want to break me completely? Not?

"Get away! I'll shoot, damn you, Rake, I'll shoot!"

Tyler drops his pistol, throwing his arms out to the side and looking at Jonathan like, come on, pull the trigger, do it, come on.

"And what will change? I'm dead, Jonathan"

Tyler sneers, and Pine sees tears flow down his bloody face, feeling his own, which burn into the skin, dig in and tear, how he squeezes his throat with an iron grip, how he wants to scream, sinking to his knees, pulling out clumps of hair. 

"I had died when you were killed in front of my eyes. You were thrown into the water and drowned, but it was my strength, my strength, my desire to avenge you"

Jonathan rearranges his fingers on the trigger, with difficulty holding back a sob, continuing to listen, although he does not want to, he absolutely does not want to.

"Please, shut up-"

"I am not, there is only this shell, but what are bones, muscles, joints, blood vessels, blood? It's okay if the soul itself is dead. You know me as a tyrant, a shameless bastard, an asshole, an egotist, a psychopath who will cut anyone out if he does anything wrong. What does it give me?"

He pumps up again, wiping away a tear and shaking his head. Pine is hurt, turned inside out by seeing Tyler like that. Beaten, broken, destroyed by himself. He broke, into pieces, into chips, into atoms. And he will have to rebuild.

"I'm a psychopath, Tyler"

Thin lips open on exhalation, and tears flow from his eyes. 

"I finally lost my mind when you were killed. With a knife in stomach, you know, nobody lives. You kill on business, I kill for pleasure, I kill so as to enjoy it, but you chop off the shoulder. I thought that I let you go, that you would never come back, you would not touch me, you would not even look. I thought you were in a fucking grave, bitch, Rake!"

The hand twitches, and Jonathan finally sighs with a sob, even though tears burn the wounds on his face. 

"Does a psychopath see another from afar?"

Tyler tries to joke, with outstretched arms and a dull look. 

"Shoot, and we'll finish it all. I can’t live like this anymore, I don’t want to"

Tyler shakes his head, pursing his lips and breathing again and again, trying not to choke in tears. 

"Please, shoot"

"You need, you shoot. You were going to kill me, your chance is here now, Tyler. Raise the gun, reload and knock out my remaining brains with a bullet". 

Rake steps forward, Jonathan staggers back. 

"Don't come to, please, don't come to me. Kill me and it will be easier for both of us"

Tyler shook his head briefly, stepping close so that the muzzle rested on his forehead, chilling with metal.

"Come on"

"I-I can't do that. Please, Tyler, do it yourself. I beg you"

The voice drops to a whisper, but the pale fingers are still trembling, as is the body, as is the rest of Jonathan. He feels bad, he doesn't want to.

"I won't be able to kill you"

Rake echoes hoarsely, as if choking on every syllable, as if someone were choking him with an icy hand. 

"I couldn't then, and I can't now"

"Please-"

Tyler covers Jonathan's hand with his, palm to palm, finger to finger, especially on the trigger, and looks at him pleadingly — he wants to stop everything, to make himself free from all the shackles.

"No"

"Can't you?"

Rake stubbornly gazes at Pine, jaw straining, eyes glinting with light.

"I can not"

Jonathan grins, sliding his finger off the trigger of the pistol, keeping it in his hand. Their eyes meet, whisper is barely heard:

"So can i"

Jonathan is sharply knocked out of his hand, grabbed by the waist, the back of the head, everything that can be grasped. Jonathan clings to Tyler like a raft, biting his lips with a kiss-bite, pushing to the closet and holding the collar of his shirt; the glass surface cracks, cracks, the glass crumbles into small pieces, but, dear Lord, how to spit.

"Tyler-"

"Is this an outcome you wanted?"

Hands glide chaotically over the body, rip off the vest, but gently pull off the butterfly, lift up and tear the damned white shirt, cling to the interfering belt, while the fragments fly to the floor, they are incredibly easy to step on. Jonathan breathes heavily between kisses, reaches for the next one, receiving an unquestioning answer and a hot tongue encircling the edge of his teeth, which makes it almost impossible to breathe: the air burns out his nostrils, twists his lungs, looks like a sweet torture, you want to prolong it as long as there is enough breath, strength, desire, carried away the remnants of common reason.

"We destroyed half of the house. Don't you care?"

Jonathan, trying to look into Tyler's eyes, not to drown in them, as it happened all the time, but it's too late to ask for help when you are at the bottom, and there is no point in trying to swim out, rowing to the surface with all your limbs, so as not to die when death is so beautiful that you want to voluntarily drown yourself, and everything else would go to hell.

"Does this fact really bother you now?"

Tyler grins, wiping blood with his thumb from the corner of his lips and peering into feverishly burning eyes, blood on his forehead, dripping drops from his nose onto thin lips. This is his work, his palms and fingers.

"I'm worried about you. In all aspects that exist"

Jonathan retorts, angrily cracking down on someone else's shirt, tearing off a few buttons — Tyler only laughs hoarsely in response to Jonathan's haste, he throws an unnecessary rag aside, squeezing Tyler's regrown hair, pulling him down with his legs, with a dull cry — the back of the head, kicked off against the glass, immediately makes itself felt, while they destroy the fucking house with themselves, trying to calm down the passion that is raging like an element.

Pine is covered with goose bumps, touching the cold table with his bare back, and the contrast is driving the roof and, it seems, for good.

Their bedroom is just a few steps away.

"I love you"

The heart begins to beat faster, you just have to hear, he was waiting for these words for too long, and they shouldn't matter now, to influence him, but for some reason it drives him so badly inside that it hurts - Rake managed to break through the shield , under which Jonathan buried himself so that no one else dared to touch his soul and play with it, because it’s boring. But the rules were not made for Tyler, and Tyler was not made for them. It is obvious.

He kisses him again, tenderly, with all his love, not trying to inflict pain, not trying to subdue and subdue his will, when they finally find themselves on the whole bed; someone else's blood is salty-sweet, like your own, it shamelessly gets into your mouth, rolls viscidly on your tongue, but to stop now is because of the deadliest sin, this is the edge of something impossible, as it seemed before. The closeness makes you dizzy, confuses thoughts with each other, makes you moan with pleasure, which is caused by hot lips leading along the bend of the neck, bordering on a sick madness for two and making you scream from how good it is, even now, when their souls are open to each other and there is no fucking misunderstanding. But can you go crazy twice?


End file.
